


Look How They Shine

by justmindy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Introspection, Parentlock, wed!lock, yellow wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:36:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmindy/pseuds/justmindy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martha Hudson adores the family she has acquired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look How They Shine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nicolebrander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicolebrander/gifts).



> Happy Birthday darling Nicole! Thank you for giving us the Yellow Wedding to play with!

 

The precise sounds of the violin played over the small ballroom’s speakers as bride and groom twirled about the dance floor, surrounded by their family and friends but only seeing each other.

 

Martha Hudson sighed dreamily. The wedding was beautiful. Yellow summer flowers decorated every table, yellow ribbons flittered in the breeze along the paths outside the Orangery. Lovely Imogen swayed in her bright lemon coloured dress, daisies weaved into her hair, and brave little Milo stood beside her with a stiff upper lip, his bright yellow waistcoat matching his sister.

 

Their mother - well, Molly Holmes was a vision in cream and jasmine, her groom’s waistcoat matching perfectly as they danced to the familiar music Martha knew Sherlock had been perfecting for seven years now. In the beginning she didn’t know the subject of the piece, but over the past few months, as her tenant spent countless secret hours perfecting it while Molly was at work, she confirmed what she’d suspected long ago; that it was an homage to the mother of his children and the love of his life.

 

Martha sighed again, wiping the tears from her eyes with the yellow embroidered handkerchief Molly had gifted her in the bridal antechamber before the wedding. They were alone, Violet having already left to take her place next to Siger Holmes, and the children standing in place outside the room, waiting for their mother and Uncle Greg to follow them down the aisle. Molly had taken Martha’s hands, placing the small wrapped parcel in them.

 

“Mrs. Hudson -”

 

“I’ve told you to call me Martha, dear.”

 

“Martha, I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done and everything you’ve been for our small family,” she laughed lightly, “well, our not-so-small-family, that happens to be getting bigger,” she said, placing a hand over her slightly-swollen belly, noticeable only as they sat in the window seat of the brightly lit room.

 

“Oh, dear!” she carefully hugged Molly, not wanting to ruin any of the carefully arranged pins or flowers, “Oh, I’m so happy for you all!”

 

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier, we wanted to wait until after the wedding to announce it,” she began, lifting the older woman’s hands in her own again, “but I so wanted to tell you now. You’ve become like a mother to me, Mrs - Martha, and I wanted you to know.”

 

She looked back toward the dance floor, and past, to the Holmes children standing on the side lovingly watching their parents. Martha never thought she’d have grandchildren, what with her disastrous marriage, but now she was Nana and she couldn’t be happier. She loved being part of this strange little family.

 

It only seemed like yesterday, but in fact was closer to a decade, since that awful Christmas. The first time any of them had seen Sherlock Holmes apologize. Now here they were, in Kew Gardens, and now a third baby! Oh, she was ever so pleased.

 

The recording stopped, and the crowd applauded as Sherlock whispered a secret into Molly’s ear, causing her to smile with a blush before he brought her left hand up to kiss the inside of her wrist.

 

The first guitar strums of a song even Martha recognized started. Molly grabbed Milo, lifting him into her arms, while Sherlock perched Imogen on his feet so they could dance. The attendees filed onto the floor to join them.

 

_Look at the stars,_

_Look how they shine for you,_

_And everything thing you do,_

_Yeah, they were all yellow._

A young man, with piercing blue eyes and an aristocratic face, was crossing the dance floor, approaching Martha with a charming grin. She remembered being introduced earlier to Molly’s cousin Rafferty, who was not much older than 17. The polite lad asked her to dance.

 

As he gently guided her to join the crowd, and they started dancing, Martha realized - 221B was already a little too crowded, with Imogen and Milo growing older; they were going to need their own rooms soon.

 

And now, they needed a nursery, too.

 

Sherlock had resisted; he never handled change well, but Martha knew his resolve was slipping, because his family needed the space and Sherlock Holmes was a good father, and a good partner - now husband - and a great man.

 

Well, she knew this day was coming, but she hadn’t wanted to admit it - she loved living so close to Sherlock and Molly and the children but…

 

It was time.

 

She had a large nest egg, mostly left over from her marriage, that she had kept squirreled away for a day like this.

 

She would buy a nice cottage on the Isle of Wight. The children could visit her for summer hols. She wouldn’t have to keep her herbal soothers on such a high shelf anymore.

 

Yes, she would give Molly and Sherlock 221 Baker Street. What a lovely wedding gift, if she did say so herself.

 

She was brought out of her thoughts when the boy stepped on her foot.

 

“Sorry! Sorry - ”

 

“It’s okay, love, I should probably - “

 

“May I cut in,” a silver haired white knight tapped on the youth’s shoulder.

 

“Oh, yes, of course,” and the kid was off to dance with the other revelers as a lively dance song started.

 

“Thank you Greg, it was a nice gesture on his part, but my feet couldn’t have handled much more.”

 

“Anytime, Mrs. Hudson,” he led her back to her seat, grabbing two flutes of champagne on the way. “Who would’ve known we’d be here, after all this time. Can you believe it?”

  
“Yes, I think I can,” she said, smiling into her glass.


End file.
